


Anything You Want

by Leni



Series: The New (Old) Deal [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cursed Storybrooke, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9621443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: "The last thing Rumpelstiltskin expected to find when he stepped into the showroom of the pawnshop Regina had saddled him with, was his formerly sweet and demure maid giving him a challenging look from her perch on the counter."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “It’s been how long since you’ve had sex?”

  
The last thing Rumpelstiltskin expected to find when he stepped into the showroom of the pawnshop Regina had saddled him with, was his formerly sweet and demure maid giving him a challenging look from her perch on the counter.

"Good morning, Mr. Gold," she greeted him cheerily.

Rumpelstiltskin gulped.

Perhaps in other circumstances, he could have indulged in fond memories of sharing whole conversations with Belle while she sat on the long table of the main hall and swung her legs contently, always happy to give him a half hour of her time in exchange for a few tidbits about his trips.

But the comparison died the moment his brain screeched that in those days Belle had been in possession of all her clothes while they'd talked.

Lacey, in contrast, was clad in a brief, flimsy ensemble of silk and lace that shimmered under the overhead lights into a tone that took Rumpelstiltskin a moment to recognize as gold.

In all, the ensemble might have skirted the boundaries of propriety as they were in this land. The neckline wasn't any lower than the shirts and tight dresses Lacey adored, and there was fabric covering more of her thighs than some of the shorts he'd seen her wear.

The problem, Rumpelstiltskin realized in despair, was that the sheer lace tantalized more than protected her from lecherous intent. As if that wasn't temptation enough, his eyes wandered without his express permission, noting every inch of her exposed flesh and zeroing in the heretofore unknown sight of her belly button.

It got worse.

Her bottoms skimmed so low down her abdomen that his brain unhelpfully informed him that if there was no sign of curly hair at that spot, it was unlikely he'd find any under the cloth.

He hissed in a breath, trying to hold himself up under the weight of the imagery, and then choked out in a voice more fitting of a startled fool than the collected businessman he was supposed to be, "What do you think you're doing?"

Lacey smirked. "Waiting for the boss, of course. You did say I had better come to work early this week if I didn't want you to start subtracting from my pay."

"Lacey..."

She dared to give him an admonishing look. "Miss French, if you please. I've grown fond of this formality you're so particular about."

Rumpelstiltskin fought the urge to turn around and flee. Instead he tightened his grip on his cane, as if its tip against the floor was the only thing holding him from either marching over to Town Hall and strangling a new cursed persona for Belle out of Regina, or marching forward and finally taking what Lacey had been so eager to offer for weeks.

He fought down the wave of lust at that thought. Took a deep breath instead. "While I praise you for your punctuality, dearie, I really must wonder at your choice of attire."

Lacey plucked at the thin strap at her left shoulder, letting the flimsy bit of elastic fall down to her elbow. "This old thing?" she asked, trying an innocent tone that was immediately belied by the heat in her eyes. "I didn't think you'd notice anything different with it. Should I take it off?"

She joined action to words, reaching behind her back for what Rumpelstiltskin assumed was the catch holding her top together.

"No!"

Her head tilted to a side, and her hands slowly returned to her sides. "You mean that, don't you?"

Rumpelstiltskin forced himself to nod.

Her chuckle was loud with disbelief. "At least you do like the view so far," she said, always confident and absolutely in the right.

He didn't bother to shift his expression into disapproval, aware that Belle had always been able to see under his masks and Lacey had inherited at least that. Perhaps he should have turned around, or at least walked past her and avoided the girl until she took the hint and pulled some clothes on.

But either of those options smacked of weakness, and previous experience said that Lacey would only try something even more outrageous the next time. "You are a beautiful woman, Miss French," he told her, then gave a little shrug, "and I'm not that much of a gentleman."

That made her laugh.

Lacey's laughter always tugged at his heart, as she sounded exactly like Belle when he told one of his silly jokes. Rumpelstiltskin smiled back, keeping his gaze at the level of her shoulders, one still sporting a golden strap across it, the other bare of even a tan line, and didn't even attempt to order his eyes to move further upwards.

He did know an impossible task when he stumbled upon it.

"Not a gentleman? I'm so shocked," Lacey said, her voice a purr.

She studied him for another moment, charmed both by his stubborn self-command and his partial success. Any other man would have already taken her up on her offer long before she had to resort to near-public indecency to get this much of his attention. "Mr. Gold?" she called softly, inexplicably happy when he did raise his eyes at the sound of his name. "Tell me what you want."

His tongue peeked out to wet his lips.

Lacey smiled. Leaned so far forward that her hands gripped at the edge of the counter to secure her balance. As she stretched her neck to the side, she knew there was a free line of sight down the valley between her breasts, barely disguised by the gold cloth of her new set of lingerie.

"Anything you want," she pressed.

Rumpelstiltskin wondered how she had known to steal his line, the exact words he'd said a thousand times to a thousand desperate souls. There was always a price attached, he reminded himself. He knew better than most that there was no escape from paying it.

His price would be Belle staring at him in horror, once the curse was broken.

He had more self-control than to give in to the web of lies Regina's curse had created. Lacey's attraction might be rooted in the love Belle had once held for him, but it had been years since then, and years where she couldn't have thought too kindly of him. Not after he had thrown her out of the castle and then left her for dead under the Evil Queen's mercy.

Even if, by some miracle, Belle still trusted him enough that even her cursed self had instinctively looked for his protection, he didn't dare presume that any of her more tender feelings had survived.

"Well, Mr. Gold? If you're thinking you can distract me with your silence, you're wrong, you know."

This was like Belle, too.

 _I want you to be safe_ , he thought. And, _I want you to forgive me_.

In this world where Regina still reigned supreme, with only the foolish and stubborn Miss Swan standing against her, Lacey's safety was paramount. Rumpelstiltskin didn't like to think of what Regina would do if she caught wind that Lacey had become Mr. Gold's lover instead of a torture device held at Rumpelstiltskin's throat.

"I want to get a full day's work out of you, dearie."

Lacey's smile widened. "That can be arranged," she said, slipping off the counter and walking leisurely in his direction. She was almost of a height with him, on those spike heels of the same hue as her ensemble. Meanwhile, entranced, it didn't even cross Rumpelstiltskin's head to move away. Lacey motioned around the room, never pausing on the bee line toward him. "Should we start right here, or would the backroom be more comfortable?"

"You misunderstand-"

She was close enough to have grabbed onto his tie, stretching it between them and then leaning to rub her cheek against the soft material. "No, I didn't." Her smile could have driven Rumpelstiltskin to his knees, if it was Belle behind it. "I know what you want, whether you say it or not. I have been here for three months, and I have never seen you so much as glance at another woman unless you're glaring daggers at her - which is the hottest thing I've ever seen, by the way."

"Wha--?"

"But when you glare at me... Yes. Just like that." Her eyes sparked. "You've looked at me like that from the start, Gold. For _months_. I've been waiting for you to make a first step, but I've decided you're off practice." She said all this in the most rational of tones. "It's all right," she continued, now so close that she patted his cheek comfortingly. "I understand. After all, it’s been how long since you’ve had sex?”

"Miss French!" he said in despair. "I want you to be professional while on the job."

Lacey just laughed, inching closer.

"I don't-"

"Lies," she cut him off mercilessly.

"I want you to know who I am!"

That held enough honesty to stop Lacey in her tracks. She looked up, letting go of his tie in shock at whatever she saw on his face. "But I already know," she said, turning confused blue eyes up at him, obviously at a loss. "You're Mr. Gold."

Rumpelstiltskin's laughter sounded pained to his own ears.

Lacey was so close that he could smell her, but the scent was all Belle. If he closed his eyes, he'd be back in the Dark Castle, standing in sunlight within his walls for the first time in years, holding a girl too kind-hearted to understand she should have jumped out and run away already.

"What's my name?" he asked, leveling his voice against a roar at the unfairness of it.

Lacey frowned.

Rumpelstiltskin allowed himself to trace her cheek with a fingertip, exhausted after so many weeks of fighting himself from touching her. "My name, dearie. If you're Lacey French, then I am...?"

"You've never said," she whispered. The crease between her brows deepened. "No one has."

"I'll make you a deal," he told her before she could think too hard of the unlikeness of a whole town being unaware of the name of the most powerful man among them. "Tell me my name, and I will answer your question. No lies. No distractions. Just the truth."

Lacey eyed him. "Why delay the inevitable?"

He gave a soft laugh. "Call me a romantic."

She looked at him, saw that he wouldn't change his mind and shrugged. "I guess one of us has to be," she muttered, glancing down at her outfit with a disappointed scowl.

Rumpelstiltskin's hands itched to touch her, which meant that he tightened his grasp on the cane. "You're perfect," he reassured her. "You always are."

A huff of disbelief answered that. "You're saying no because I'm perfect? I'm trashy, Gold. Not stupid." With that, Lacey twirled around on her heels, stomping toward the backroom.

"You're the smartest woman I know," Rumpelstiltskin called out.

That managed to make her pause, and Lacey looked at him over her shoulder. Blue eyes narrowed with distrust, but she couldn't detect any mockery on his face. "Yes, I am," she told him, more to herself than to him, but then she nodded at her own words. "I'm the best and it's your loss, Gold." Then she resumed stalking away, shooting out an arm to make the dividing curtain flare open to let herself through. Once she was out of view, she yelled back, "And you're a fool!"

Rumpelstiltskin let out a sad smile.

"I know, sweetheart," he whispered. "I know." 

 

The End  
07/02/17

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!
> 
> *points at comment box*


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